Bed Hair
by a-girl-with-a-writers-mind
Summary: "So she stood there beside him, brushing her teeth, and thinking to herself that they were the king and queen of bed hair."


_**Author's Note: Oh would you look at that yet another Fairy Tail writer has joined the BnHA fandom *sips tea* Okay but in all seriousness, this is my first contribution of hopefully many; so please leave a review, and enjoy!**_

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Momo wakes to sunlight streaming into her room, the sun well up into the sky. She blinks blearily against the light, tugging the fluffy blanket over her eyes to ward it off. She contemplates just staying in bed, but figures she's slept in long enough. With a long and dramatic sigh, she kicks the blanket off and drags herself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It does nothing to help, of course- with exams coming up, she's in a perpetual state of drowsiness. Momo just sits there for a moment, too tired to even care about the way she's slouching. She stares at the wall across her bed, squinting, letting her eyes adjust to the offensive light. After a moment or two, she tosses her legs over the edge of her bed and slides off, swaying for a moment on her feet before stumbling across the room to her door. She opens it and steps out, noting that several over her classmates' doors were still closed. They're probably still sleeping- something she desperately wishes she was still doing.

She trudges down the hall, her loose, yellow nightgown brushing against her bare thighs. On any other occasion, she would be wearing bottoms, but now a days she is too tired to even think straight, much less care about her apparel, if the baggy shirts and slippers she wore during the day are any indication.

When she enters the kitchen, she is met with the sight of Denki and Kyoka fast asleep at the island, various studying tools spread around them. Denki's head is resting on an open textbook, the drool sliding from his mouth leaving a dark blotch on the paper. Jirou's got her face burrowed in the crook of her arm, her other hand resting on Denki's textbook. They most likely fell asleep studying last night, Jirou tutoring him the best she could. Momo smiles at the sight, glad to see the two putting so much effort into their education.

Momo makes a beeline to the coffee machine. The black and silver box had quickly become her best friend in these past weeks, providing her with the caffein she so desperately needs. She sets right to work, sifting through the box of coffee mixes until she find her favourite and pops it in the machine, fishing out her favourite mug and placing it on the little tray. She waits patiently as the machine works its magic, leaning against the counter and rubbing at her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up. The little ping of the coffee machine notifies her that her drink in finished, and she scoops the mug up gratefully. She brings it up to her lips, enhaling the sweet aroma that she's grown to love, and takes a sip. The drink is hot and rich, just how she likes it, and the temperature wakes her up just the tiniest amount.

Armed with her coffee and a new surge of optimism for the day, she makes her way to the common room's bathroom. As she walks through the common room, she sees Mina asleep on a couch, her head leaning back and a textbook open on her lap. Momo debates whether or not to wake her up lest she hurt her neck, but figures that it'll hurt anyways and that she deserves the rest.

Momo pushes open the bathroom door, the tile cold against her bare feet as she steps inside, the door swinging closed behind her. She goes to the large windows and pulls back the curtains, allowing the sunlight to fill up the bathroom. This time she isn't averse to the light, instead basking in its gentle warmth and smiling, her eyes closed and her hand still holding the fabric.

After a moment, she turns away with sigh, and heads towards the enormous countertop. With six sinks and counter space galore, it outshines even _her_ home's fancy bathrooms. Momo sets her mug down on the counter next to her designated sink, careful not to break the delicate ceramic. Her hand disappears under the edge of the counter, groping blindly for the handle of the drawer that was concealed below. There are twenty drawers, for the twenty rooms in the dorm level for the twenty students. They are narrow but surprisingly spacious, put in place to serve as a storage compartment for when the students can't use the main bathrooms. She's made great use of them, keeping a spare toothbrush and a tube of minty toothpaste in it, as well as a good amount of hair elastics and a brush. She also has a mini first aid kit stored in it; much to her disbelief, none of her classmates own one. Which is truly shocking, in her opinion- even for people without destructive quirks, first aid kits are a must.

Her fingers wrap around the thin silver handle and pull, and the drawer rolls out smoothly. Everything is in perfect order, like it always is, the little dividers she placed in coming in handy. She plucks her toothbrush and toothpaste from the drawer, and bumps it closed with her hip. She twists the handle of the faucet and holds her brush underneath. In her tiredness, she just keeps it there, the water running. A yawn stretches her mouth, so wide that it brings tears to her eyes. She doesn't bother covering her mouth, instead blinking tiredly and finally turning off the water. She uncaps the toothpaste on autopilot, and squeezes it onto her toothbrush, nearly dropping it in the sink. With another weary sigh, she sticks it in her mouth, slowly working it around.

She doesn't notice him until she hears the door swing shut. He stumbles up to the sink, one hand scratching at his stomach under his shirt, exposing the hard muscle underneath. His eyes keep slipping shut, the gray and turquoise thin slivers behind his lids. A yawn pulls from his throat, revealing a white set of teeth, and Momo figures he must have been up late again studying. What he's doing awake at this ungodly hour, she hasn't a clue- she thought that she was the only one who woke up this early during exams.

His eyes slip shut for a moment, but it's long enough for him to reach the counter and bump into it. He doesn't jolt at the cool stone pressed into his him, merely opening his eyes and sighing tiredly. His hand comes up from under his shirt, and he rubs at his eyes for a moment in an attempt to wake himself up, another yawn stretching his lips wide, his chest noticeably rising at the deep breath. He blinks rapidly when he takes his hands away, and leans in to squint at his reflection in the mirror. He must have noticed her only then, for he blinks in surprise and straightens, turning to face her. He peers at her, as if unbelieving that another person would willingly get up this early. He looks a bit like a confused puppy, Momo muses. He appears to have decided that she was, in fact, there and somewhat awake, so he dips his chin at her. "Morning, Momo," he greets, his voice rough with sleep. If she had been more awake, she would appreciate the spine tingling rasp of his voice, making it deeper than usual. She would also care more about his use of her given name, but for now, all she really cares about was his appearance. Or more importantly, his hair.

Todoroki Shouto has the unruliest bed hair she had ever seen.

It was truly magnificent. Locks of hair stick up haphazardly, as if he had run his fingers through it about a hundred times. White and crimson strands fell into his eyes, more than usual, throwing shadows over his eyes and making them seem deep set. The divide between the two colours of his hair is nearly null, the two shades sprawling about together. It's messy and unkempt, and she absolutely loves it.

She tries to keep her expression neutral, which she figures she must have done a pretty good job of, for she saw no confusion on his face. It wasn't all too difficult, considering her lack of sleep made it nigh on impossible to muster up the energy to express any emotion besides tiredness. Still, an amused smile tugs at her lips.

She holds the toothbrush to the side of her mouth, so it won't distort her speech. "Morning, Shouto," she replies in turn, inclining her head, trying to at least be somewhat polite. She's never really addressed him by his first name, but she figures that if he can call her Momo, then she may as well call him Shouto. They're close enough now, anyways.

He nods, and she resumes brushing, a little more awake than before. He rolls his shoulders, sighing contentedly at the soft pops and cracks, and turns in her direction. She steps away from the counter, making space for him to access the little drawer underneath.

In an average classroom at UA, there are twenty students, no more, no less. Therefore, there are twenty little drawers. But because Shouto and herself were recommended students, the school board had to go around the rule and add them in, making the class _twenty-two_ students. So, that meant two students would have to share a drawer. Jirou was nice enough to give up her drawer, sharing a space with Uraraka, and Shouto and herself had decided to split the one drawer between themselves to save the other students from having to share. Momo had divided the drawer directly in half- one side for each of them. She had also partitioned Shouto's side to match her's, and she heard no complaint, so the little drawer was perfectly even.

Todoroki slips his hand underneath and pulls out the drawer, picking his toothbrush and toothpaste from it before sliding it closed. She moves back as he turns on the faucet of the sink next to her's, wetting his toothbrush under the steady stream of water. He squirts his toothpaste onto it, the flavour as minty as her's, and begins brushing slowly.

It's only then does Momo truly notice herself in the mirror, and her eyebrows raise slightly as she catches sight of the mess that is her hair. Her long black hair is tangled and knotted, sticking up like a wild mane behind her. Shorter pieces stick up in an amazing display of gravity-defiance, and strands fall into her face.

At any other time, she would have been mortified by her unkempt state, but right now, she really didn't care. If anything, it was a nice change from her usual prim self. So she stood there beside him, brushing her teeth, and thinking to herself that they were the king and queen of bed hair.

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 _ **Sooo? What do ya think? (Also ps I'm am going to be addressing some kids by their personal names and some by their family names, purely out of aesthetic sorry ;-;)**_


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